Denver Post
Training sought to help police aid disabled
Tuesday, July 29, 2003 - Helen Childs sat in a conference room last week among advocates for people with developmental disabilities who laid everything on the table - sympathy, solace and the seeds of "Paul's Law."
The grieving mother has become the focal point of a proposal for law enforcement training to more effectively deal with the growing number of mentally ill or disabled people who live in the community and cross paths with police. Paul Childs - a 15-year-old boy with cognitive disabilities, a seizure disorder and a knife in his hand - was killed by Denver police in the doorway of his home earlier this month after the family called 911 for help. His mother said she hopes better training will lead to better outcomes. "I don't want him to be forgotten," Childs said. "Paul was no threat to nobody. Years from now, I don't want him to be just 'that boy.' I don't want him to be a statistic." Of the five fatal police shootings in Denver this year, four fit scenarios addressed in Crisis Intervention Team, or CIT, training, a 40-hour course that touches on such issues as mental illness, "suicide by cop," pharmacology and developmental disabilities. But only a fraction of officers get such comprehensive instruction now, and some state legislators, led by Rep. Rosemary Marshall of Denver, have vowed to seek a remedy. The Arc of Denver, an advocacy group for people with developmental disabilities, has begun initial research efforts. Still, training doesn't guarantee a happy ending. "The CIT officers are trained to de-escalate and communicate," said Denver police Sgt. Mike Anderson. "But that doesn't mean they won't be forced to use lethal means to resolve a situation." At least one CIT-trained officer responded to the 911 call at the Childs residence. The circumstances surrounding Paul Childs' death are still under investigation. Various advocacy groups for people with mental illness or disabilities offer training for police - usually a couple of hours to departments whose officers volunteer. And some police departments, such as Boulder's, offer a course for people with disabilities to familiarize them with safety procedures. But Barbara Grantland still fears that what happened to Paul Childs could just as easily - perhaps more easily - happen to her 39-year-old daughter, who has a rare genetic disorder whose symptoms include poor impulse control. "We always hold our breath," said Grantland, who lives in Aurora. "That could be Tammy." Once, Tammy shoplifted at an Englewood drug store and, when confronted, reacted with wildly defiant behavior that got her cuffed, thrown in a police car and arrested. But in another incident, at an Aurora 7-Eleven, police calmed her down, drove her home and stayed until her emotions cooled. "They handled it in a much more constructive way and still let Tammy know this was a no-nonsense thing," Grantland said. But often, authorities don't recognize what some advocates call an "invisible disability." And as more people with such disabilities live and work in the community, rather than closed settings, the chances of interaction increase. People with mental illness, who may have high intelligence, may not respond logically to police commands or may think they have special powers. People with cognitive disabilities may try to hide the disability, do or say whatever they think will satisfy authorities, be slow to understand or respond to commands, or even feel so overwhelmed by police that they simply run away. "CIT training," said Bob Sattler, who helps administer the course to police, "is about how to take a step back." Denver's training began a year ago, and the program has graduated 123 officers toward the goal of 250. The department wants to have at least one fully CIT-trained officer on every shift in each of the six patrol districts, Anderson said. "We want to have the officers use resources outside of incarceration," Anderson said. "So one of the things the officers want to avoid doing is putting the clients in jail and, if at all possible, find resources that will keep them out of the hospital emergency rooms." But that's not always easy. With funding cutbacks to many mental health services, police sometimes have few options. "The resources for the police have pretty much been the emergency rooms and the jails," said Sandy Kuark, president of the Denver chapter of the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. Kuark's group has worked with Denver police to set up the CIT training and continues to consult with them on ways to improve the program. She said the need for effective police CIT training is even more important now with the funding cuts likely to leave more mentally impaired without the services they need. Since the Childs shooting, police have begun working with mental health groups and northeast Denver community leaders on a day-long course that every officer in the department would take. In CIT training, Sattler uses a panel of people with developmental disabilities to deliver one segment of the course. Brenda Kaler, a 40-year-old with moderate disability, said she once was arrested for allegedly pushing another group-home resident down some stairs. The police response frightened and confused her - and now she tries to help police in training understand those feelings. "They should at least talk to me first, explain to me what they were going to do," Kaler said. "They kind of scared me when they put the handcuffs on me." But sometimes, police sensitivity means not coddling. Tim O'Neill, executive director of a service provider in Fort Collins, said one issue that arose a few years ago with police involved a young man with a penchant for loud and disruptive - though not dangerous - public behavior. Well-meaning cops struck a deal: a ride in the police car in return for a promise to behave. "The (young man) thought it was really cool and, as a result, continued to exhibit the behavior because the consequences were extremely desirable," O'Neill said. He and other advocates met with police and suggested a different approach. When the young man's public outbursts elicited a trip to jail for processing, the behavior suddenly stopped. But the cooperation between cops and caregivers continued and resulted in an on-call program that has senior service providers familiar with Fort Collins-area clients available at all hours. In Denver, police are trying to gather addresses where people with mental disabilities live and integrate that with their dispatching system. Whenever police get a call from one of those addresses, the system would flag it as a possible mental-health call and dispatchers could send a CIT officer. Last December, Denver police officer Dee Meineke got called to a branch library, where a security guard wanted a young man arrested for trespassing. Meineke took him into an office for a talk. "It was very apparent to me through his facial movements and body language that he was probably developmentally disabled," she recalled. She phoned the man's relatives, found he was having trouble with medication, got him safely home and later followed up to make sure he was doing OK. Her actions won recognition from the Colorado Developmental Disabilities Council and also spoke well of her training. "It's unfortunate that things like the Childs shooting and some other incidents happened," Anderson said. "But there are far more incidents where it has been a positive outcome." |